


Debriefing

by eternalshiva



Series: Dragon Age Inquisition: Cullen x Fernweh Trevelyan [5]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bad Puns, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 21:00:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2787575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternalshiva/pseuds/eternalshiva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Commander,” she winked at him, he managed to somehow suppress the urge to grin like an idiot, “We were just finishing up my report, but I’d be happy to debrief you on the details, one on one, when I’m done with the ladies.” The emphasis on the word wasn't missed by the commander and the other advisors. Unfortunately.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Debriefing

**Author's Note:**

> artsyneurotic: on the same note, someone please write me some “first time” fic goodness with Cullen x Inquisitor? I need some awkward / bashful / intense stufffff
> 
> Note: It's not their "first time" but it's a first of firsts between them.

When he walked into the room, the other advisors were already in a deep discussion with the Inquisitor, he had been held up longer than intended with some Templars that had just arrived and had to be set up properly. She looked over to the sound of the door opening – smiling at him when their eyes met. He felt the tight knot of anxiety that had plagued him over the last few weeks release at just the sight of her. 

“Inquisitor, welcome back.” He rested his hand on the handle of his sword, resisting the urge to cross the room and take her into his arms for an overdue embrace. The mission had been a dangerous one, they had discussed it at length and he was glad to see that she was back in one piece. Darkspawn had begun to appear on the coast and with the Grey Wardens gone missing, she took it upon herself to close the new openings and dispatch the threat. 

“Commander,” she winked at him, he managed to somehow suppress the urge to grin like an idiot, “We were just finishing up my report, but I’d be happy to _debrief_ you on the details, one on one, when I’m done with the ladies.” The emphasis on the word wasn’t missed by the commander _and_ the other advisors. Unfortunately. 

“ _Debrief_ him, indeed.” Leliana murmured, feigning innocence when Fernweh shot her a glance and Josephine fought with obvious difficulty to stop her laughter. The rest of the meeting went slowly, the other advisor clearly dragging out the information of each encounter with insufferable details. 

“How many were dead?” 

“ I counted about…” another ten minutes of pointless details, Cullen watching Fernweh speak, her lips moving in intricate patterns he wanted to have run down his neck. 

He cleared his throat. 

“Oh, Maker, did your shoes slip in the guts?”

“What? No.” Fernweh raised a brow, confused at the question. 

“We’ll have to order you a pair with better buckles – the taint absolutely ruins the Antivan leather of those marvelous riding boots.” The spymaster turned to Josephine and placed an order. 

He blinked, where was… how was that important? He frowned, Josephine was using her feathered quill to hide her smile. There was a twinkle in their eye he didn’t like. Fernweh didn’t seem to notice but she wasn’t subject to their constant teasing on a daily basis. They were enjoying themselves, he suspected. 

And he was _right_. 

Lelianna threw her hands up in the air and sighed, teasing Cullen was no fun when he was this distracted, and grabbed the diplomat by the arm and dragged her away, arms locked together for a drink at the tavern. 

The door slammed behind them and Cullen stood alone, finally, with his much missed lover. She smirked at him, crossing her arms and he grinned. 

“Hi,” his voice was low, a hushed whisper he knew drove her a little wild and he got the response he sought, she pressed her lips together and started to walk towards him, walking around the table. 

“Hi,” she reached out with both arms for an embrace they both needed and he gathered her in his arms, nuzzling her neck and breathing her essence deeply. 

“Are you really going to debrief me?” he asked, his lips fluttering against her neck, she squirmed at the tickling sensation. 

“Depends on what your definition is,” she quipped back before pulling back far enough to meet his eyes and kissed him, her lips pliable to his when he nibbled on her lower one. He had missed her. 

When was the last time they kissed? 

He couldn't recall, she'd been on mission after mission with barely a breath between them to take each other in. He was tired of watching her leave and tracing her progress through hearsay and maps - plans he'd carefully crafted just for her, just for him so he'd be sure she was safe. 

She grabbed him by the collar, her gaze was heavy, half lidded with something he didn't quite recognize; they'd only been intimate a handful of times and scarcely so as of late. There were many things he didn't know about her just yet, many signals he didn’t quite understand but he was eager to learn. 

"Come, Cullen," she whispered close to his ear, her lips were pink from his soft assault - he felt a little guilty when he noticed the red tint on her chin, he should have shaved... a thought for later. Fernweh tugged him forward as she made her way around the table, her hips swaying in some _attempt_ to be sexy, he gathered, he was grinning at her – the bubble of a chuckle building in his chest. 

She nearly took them both down to the ground when he was pulled forward, quite suddenly he might add, when she lost her footing while bumping her hip into the war table. “Ouch, that was smart,” she rubbed at her hip, her cheeks tinting red from embarrassment. He burst into laughter as he steadied her upright again. She glared at him, but the smile on her lips betrayed her. She turned on her heels, grabbing the furred liner of his armour and pushed him backwards until his back hit the wall, his breath pushed out of his lungs slightly but it didn't bother him. She liked bossing him around a little in the bedroom and he found it endearing, if not arousing. 

"What's this?" he asked her, her lips were following the length of his jaw, nipping with her teeth, her body curling around his while her hands sought out the clasps of his armour. Her mouth was distracting him, her tongue tentatively slipped for a taste of his skin, his head rolled back, exposing his neck and he closed his eyes. 

“I’m debriefing,” she spoke between kisses, he chuckled. 

“I’m glad to see we have the same definition.” 

The metal of his gear loosened, dropping down the ground in a startling clang that made her pause, they both looked towards the door of the War Room and waited for a second. 

"Maybe we should..." he started to say something that would suggest they move their little tête à tête somewhere less _public_ , she was sure, but her fingers had reached the skin of his belly and he took in a sharp breath. 

Her hands were _cold_. 

"Should what?" she was pulling at his undershirt, biting her lower lip in concentration. "Maker, how many layers do you have on?" She whispered with frustration. 

"More than you," he growled, "Your hands are bloody cold!" He brushed her pawing hands away from him and took them in his own, bringing them to his lips and blew on them softly to warm them.

"Well," she chuckled, "I did rush in here from the mission," she teased - he could hear the laughter behind the words. “There is a snow storm outside, if you hadn’t noticed.” 

He had noticed, of course. His bedroom wouldn’t let him forget it. 

"That eager to see the council?" He murmured, she moved in closer, her knee slipping between his legs, grinning.

"Just one, in particular," she kissed the tip of his fingers, nibbling one to the next. He felt a shiver run down his spine - she nipped again, her tongue brushing against his finger and she sucked slightly. Her eyes met with his, he had to tell himself to take a breath. 

He bit the inside of his cheek, he could feel his cheeks warming - this wasn't something he was familiar with, this selfish want and someone else’s need of him. He let go of her hands, reaching for her face with both hands and, much like that first kiss on the battlements, he took her lips with his and kissed her deeply.

There was no surprise on her part this time, her smile was noticeable and she allowed his tongue inside of her mouth, exploring slowly at first but soon they were lost in the act. Her hands slipped down his sides to his belt and she tugged hard to loosen it to no avail. He smiled against her lips, a small snort escaping him.

"Maker's breath," she sighed, her frustration was evident and he enjoyed it - she had the cutest crinkle between the brows when things weren't going as planned.

"I wouldn't make a very good soldier if my gear were to fall of my body with the snap of your fingers," he took her hands and showed her the trick to pop the buckle.

"Well it should," she remarked, pleased with her new found knowledge. Cullen shook his head, smirking. She raised a brow at him but he silenced her next question with a kiss.

"Where were we?" He murmured between breaths, she paused and he could almost feel her thinking on his question. Her hands slipped over the front of his trousers, _warm_ fingers pressing against his erection. She pulled the ties loose and let his shaft slip free from the confines of his pants. He grunted when she wrapped her nimble fingers around him and stroked him once, slowly. 

"I-I," she stammered for a second, surprising him, "I want to…” she bit her lip again, squeezing his erection as though she was trying to let him figure it out on his own. 

This was more difficult than she thought, her plan was falling apart at the seams because she was feeling a bit overwhelmed by her own request. 

“Fernweh? What is it?” She glanced at him, he was hard in her hand, a flush creeping up from under his shirt. She could see his pulse beating steadily and his fingers were now resting on the apex of her shoulder and neck, tenderly rubbing the muscles to encourage her to speak. 

“I want to know how to… Maker,” she sighed, she decided to stroke him again, make him understand through her actions. She wasn’t very good at speaking about this just yet – they were still new with each other and she found it a little bit embarrassing still. 

"Wh- what I like?" he asked softly, he lifted her chin and gazed at her, she was unusually nervous, which made him nervous as well. 

"Yes,” she shifted her fingers, her motion slower towards the base of his shaft and elicited a small groan from him, which gave her a little bit more courage to try it again. "Just the way you like it." 

He had trouble processing the request, how was he supposed to… another stroke made him lose his thought so instead of suggesting pie charts and diagrams, he did the next best thing. He reached down, covering her hand with his and brought her hand a little higher, her thumb pressing at the base of the tip and he thrust into her hand slightly, biting his lip. 

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise when he complied with her request. She watched his fingers as he guided her, showing her where he liked to be touched, stroked and when to squeeze when he moved a little faster against her hand. His heart was beating hard in his chest, his initial embarrassment was passing with each roll of his hip. 

“Ah,” he stopped his movement when her fingers reached down to his balls and tenderly fondled them, the thought alone of her doing _this_ was enough to excite him beyond what he was familiar with and he didn’t want this to be a short encounter. She slowed her touch, smiled at his barely there warning, proud of herself. She kissed him, again. 

Cullen smirked against her lips, she had a deft hand with her weapons, always so assured and confident the way she wielded the rogue’s knives but when it came to _swords_ … He paused his thinking, the kiss faltering a little, he couldn’t really finish the sentence, and even he knew it was pretty lame by his own standards. 

“My, _my_.” He heard her soft whisper while her fingers travelled his length to the tip. She tapped the head with each word that followed. “I’m not used to handling _swords_.” 

He stopped his devoted ministration of her lips, blinking at her and he noticed her frown for a minute, lips pressed together as though she was reconsidering the very words that had come out of her mouth. 

Not that he blamed her. 

“That sounded way better in…” 

“… My head.” He finished, grinning. “I made the same joke, but thought it was best to keep it to myself,” chuckling while her cheeks flushed a shade of red he was becoming more and more familiar with. It was adorable. 

“It seems I’ve yet to learn this tact,” she huffed, he pulled her closer, kissing her temple, trying to ignore her fingers that had moved to his sides and were now slipping up and taking his shirt with it. 

“I’m surprised you haven’t, being a noble and everything.” He mumbled as she pulled the piece of clothing over his head and dropped it to the ground, letting it join the other discarded pieces she’d taken so far. She was still dressed, to his chagrin. 

“Ha.” She snorted out, shaking her head. “We have very different ideas on my upbringing.” He hummed in agreement, reached up and passed his fingers through her hair gingerly, raising a brow at her when he smirked. She bit her lip, nervous energy building again in the pit of her belly and closed the gap between their lips quickly. 

There was a different dynamic this time to her kiss, it was needful, pulling him in and he obliged. His fingers twisted into her short hair, keeping her face close to his. Her fingers were traveling down again. His cock twitched in anticipation of her touch and he wasn’t disappointed when she grasped him again, stroking slowly and putting her new knowledge to use right away. 

He leaned his back against the wall when she started to kiss down his neck, soft nibbles against his adam’s apple and nipped at the dip of his collar bone. She made her way down, slowly, still stroking him – deft fingers teasing the edge of him. 

It didn’t register at first, her lips were hot against his skin, the brush of her teeth against his nipple made him shudder and her fingers slowly worked his shaft until his hips were moving on their own, slightly aiding her. She gripped him a little harder, her lips still moving down his chest and she darted her tongue out to swirl it into his belly button, awarding her with a moan she couldn’t get enough of. She kissed the trail of blonde curls leading her to her prize, one hand slipped around his waist and pulled at his pants to take them past his hips. 

He groaned again, the cool air against his skin in sharp contrast to her breath when it slipped across his shaft…

Wait. 

Cullen snapped out of his haze, grasping her shoulders to stop her. He was almost panting, his need was great but he couldn’t let her do this if she wasn’t familiar or comfortable with it. 

Andraste preserve him, _he_ wasn’t familiar with it. 

“You-you don’t have…” he stammered, straining a bit under the effects of her touch, he felt heavy with desire and need but he wanted to make sure. “I mean I’ve never...” 

“I want to,” she looked at him, her skin flushed, she quickly licked her lower lip and knelt between his legs. His brow his knit together in worry, confusion evident on his face. She doubted herself for a moment, wondering if she had done something to upset him. 

“I mean, if it’s okay? I’ve read a little bit and Dorian’s been kind enough to give me a few ideas – I had to stop asking Bull, he has really strange ideas on the matter” she stammered, nervous – her words just spilling out, “I mean, why would you need a piece of leather to bite into?” 

She hadn’t even spoken about taking him this way, with him, she wasn’t sure – with his past maybe… there was more to it then he’d led on. 

“Maker,” he’d caused undue worry, he was kicking himself mentally, “It’s f-fine, I mean,” he had to think about what she’d said. “Dorian and Bull?” he’d barely got the question and his words out before her self-doubt dissipated, she was stroking him again, watching his face as his head lulls back against the wall and he closes his eyes. 

She heard a satisfied sigh and she smirked, fascinated by him. Her gaze lingered on him, down his chest where he heaved in breaths he can’t seem to catch, his lips were parted and the flush climbing up his neck was oddly satisfying. He let go of her shoulders, his hands spread out against the wall, trying to grasp at the stone with every stroke she gave him.

She tugged his pants past the curve of his buttock, freeing him a little more and she leaned in, licking her lips. She kissed his shaft, her nose rubbing the length as she made her way down towards his belly and he was weak in the knees, trembling at her touch. She peeked up and saw his clenched jaw, he was getting swallowed up in the sensation and he barely had a hold on the feeling of it.

She knew that face; she’d seen it the last time they made love on the desk in his office. He was climbing over the edge and she wasn’t ready to have him fall over just yet. She decided to slow down and it worked, he relaxed a bit but now she had one hand on his backside and she squeezed him, pinching him in the process. His eyes snapped open, yelping at the bit of pain and looks down at her, confused.

She grinned and took him in her mouth, making sure he saw it all.

Cullen was sure he stopped breathing, his mind is muddled from all the sensations she’d giving him and now, he couldn’t take his eyes off her as she slipped his tip past her lips and felt her tongue swirl around it. He resisted the urge to grab her head and thrust into her mouth. It’s warm, moist and… _Maker’s Breath, what is she doing with that tongue?_

Her hands roamed his stomach, scraping her nails gently down his abs and it only made him shiver, moaning her name as she licked and sucked the tip in her mouth – she gave a few strokes in between breaths but her soft assault was almost too much for him to bare. 

She was surprised when she felt his hands on her arms, pulling her up to her feet, taking him out of her mouth and she began to protest, she wasn’t quite done but he wouldn’t hear it. He flipped her position, her back was now against the wall and he pressed a knee between her legs, his thigh pressing against her sex and she let out the strangest mewling sound when she found her pleasure pulsing at the sensation. His lips pressed against her own, tasting himself on her and he moaned into her mouth. His hands were busy unbuttoning her leathers, which he only pushed aside to expose her bound breasts to him. He raked his own nails across her abdomen to get her to shiver, he needed to hear her need. 

She obliged him, eagerly, her lips parting with unrestrained sound. 

He rolled his hips against hers, his erection pressed against her belly as he let the length of it rub along her skin. A hiss escaped between his clenched teeth when she began to move against his thigh. Her warmth seeps through the combat pants she still wore – her fingers feverishly entwined in his hair and she sought his mouth again. 

They were kissing hard, teeth gnashing together for a second – she grimaced at the harsh rub of his stubble against her skin but she didn’t care, he rolled his hips again and she felt her pleasure mounting between her legs. His hand slipped up her back, loosening the binds around her chest and letting the material slip to floor. He took one small breast in his hands, rolling the nipple with his thumb, pinching them into peaks to rub his palm against. 

“Maker, Cullen-“ she breathed hard, her mind focused on him, on his touch – her hands slipped down to his shoulders feeling the muscle move under her fingers, his hips are moving faster and he’s nibbling at her ear, tasting her jaw. 

He was moaning again. 

He let go of her breast reluctantly, slipping both of his hands down her back and grabbed on to the edge of her trousers, he quickly loosened the ties there and slipped one hand down her backside and grabbed her buttocks, squeezing hard enough to leave a mark he was sure she’d complain about later. 

She wiggled, hips rolling harder so her sex rubbed just long enough on his leg to bring her closer to the edge. She moaned his name; he could see her pulse speeding and she was flushed, sweating at the temples, her nails digging into his skin encouraging him to keep going. 

She was beautiful. 

He pulled her pants down over her hips, she kicked one boot off and slipping her leg out, ready to have him pick her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist and have him inside her but… he chuckled at her. She looked at him, confused while he shook his head. 

“What are you doing?” She asked curiously, but feeling a bit impatient. He smirked at her. 

“You’ll see.” 

That half grin, she was discovering, distracted her from his real intentions. He kissed her again, tongue slipping past her lips for a brief moment and before she could even respond to him, he was trailing down her neck, nipping and biting at each pulse point he could find – he suckled the hardened nipple, swirling his tongue like she did to his tip earlier. She let out a strangled moan, surprised. He pays special attention to her belly, kissing her ribs and making her squirm with his stubble, laughing at the tickling sensation. 

She can feel his smile between the kisses he left her on belly button and knelt between her legs, pushing one of her knees over his shoulder. Her eyes wide; he raises a brow as though to ask for permission, and she nodded – his mouth hovered over her sex for a few seconds before he let himself taste her. 

It was strange at first, foreign – her fingers were familiar with her own sex and knew exactly what to do to bring her to a quick release but she didn’t know what to expect this time. The velvety sensation of his tongue exploring her and the tentative nibbles of his teeth against her clit made her gasp in surprise but he held her hips against the wall, letting her use him as support as he figured out where exactly he needed to prod with the tip. 

He found it, with long strokes of his tongue against the nub hiding in her folds – she squeezed her eyes shut, nodding her head, fingers pulling at his hair and let out a small hushed _yes_ when he suckled hard at her clit. She arched her back against the wall, she moved her hips against the motion of his mouth as he suckled her labia and slipped his tongue inside her for just an instant. She was coming undone slowly, and it was the sweetest torture she could barely endure. 

She came, suddenly and unexpectedly – she let out a low moan as the pleasure rolled out between her legs, Cullen’s tongue flickered against the nub and held her up the best he could as she melted against the wall. Her body tensed once the coil let go and she was swallowed by the sensation. He gently stood up, ensuring both her feet were on the ground while she was still reeling in the sensation of her orgasm, still riding the high he’d set her on. He gently turned her around so she faced the wall, palms flat against the cool stone. 

She was out of breath, looking over her shoulder – still in a blissful haze when he leaned down and captured her lips with his own, tasting her essence on his mouth. He grabbed her hips, his shaft slipping down past her ass cheeks and slipped between her thighs, teasing her entrance with a thrust that kissed her labia. She whimpered. 

She was ready for him, spreading her legs a little wider and curled her lower back out, giving him easier access and he slipped inside her. They both let out a moan. He pumped his hips gently at first, letting her find her feet, and as soon as she was steady, he moved faster, losing control every second he was in her. 

Fernweh was grinning, her favourite part was starting. 

She could hear him scatter to the winds, his voice becoming louder with every inch of pleasure she gave him. Their skin slapped against each other as he indulged in his need and she took it from him. “Come on, Cullen,” she was hissing the words between her clenched teeth, her walls tightening around him and she slipped a hand down to touch herself. He obeyed, moving harder, he could feel her finger tips touching them where their sex met and his endurance was faltering. 

Sweat was rolling down his brow, beading down his back – his nails were digging into her hips and leaving half-moons embedded in the skin. She welcomed the small burst of ache it caused, relishing the feel of him inside her. He leaned his head down and pressed his forehead between her shoulder blades, he could barely keep himself in check. The pressure became too much to hold back.

“I-I-“ he tried to warn her but all she did was look over her shoulder, smirked at him and reached back to grab his ass, pressing him deeper. That was all it took for him to reach his peak. He thrust forward one more time, his control snapping and he shouted, letting out a moan that made her envious at his pleasure. 

He leaned forward, his forehead moving from her back to the wall, panting hard. He had no strength left but he wasn’t about to collapse and let her fall. She squirmed under him, chuckling, while her fingers rubbed his hips absently. 

“I guess my… _sword_ handling wasn’t too bad.” 

“What?” He couldn’t think straight, let alone try to figure out what she was implying. She squeezed her walls around his softening erection, smiling. 

“My sword handling, meaning your penis.” 

He grinned, laughing. 

“Could use a little bit more practice,” he murmured before she playfully slapped him on the bum. 


End file.
